Pumpkin Carvings and the Wolf
by LadySolitaire83
Summary: Sherlock carves something on a pumpkin that shocks and worries Molly. In which Molly is a werewolf, and Sherlock doesn't know about it... yet.


**PUMPKIN CARVINGS AND THE WOLF**

 **1 November 2016**

 **A/N: This fic is set in the same** _ **Being Human**_ **(UK) fusion AU as _Monster In The Moonlight_ , where Molly Hooper is a werewolf and Sally Donovan is a vampire (although this doesn't really figure in this fic).**

 **While this can be read as a stand-alone fic, I still recommend reading** _ **Monster In The Moonlight**_ **for some background information.**

 **Hope y'all like this one!**

 **I own nothing. Everything belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, BBC, Steven Moffat, and Mark Gatiss. If I owned Sherlock and Molly Hooper, then there would be a lot more Sherlolly in the show. All mistakes are mine. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome.**

* * *

"Um, Sherlock, what is this?"

Molly stared at what he carved on his pumpkin. _Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh. My. God._ Tearing her eyes off his creation for a moment, she looked round and knitted her eyebrows at the suddenly empty backyard. Several minutes ago, the Watsons and Siger had been carving their own pumpkins at the other end of the picnic table. Also Marguerite and Mrs Hudson had been chatting and drinking cocktails at the bistro set by the back door. But they were gone now. _Did Adele need feeding, changing, or both?_ And she had just caught a glimpse of Sally and Greg, who had been cuddling in the cushioned swing chair not too long ago, as they disappeared inside the shed.

Her gaze landed on Sherlock's mum, Mrs Hudson, and Mary, who were watching them from the kitchen window. She raised her eyebrow at them, making the other women smile awkwardly and scurry away when they saw her looking. _They're obviously in on this._

She returned her attention to the man sitting across the table. "Sherlock?" she prompted.

His expectant gaze turned apprehensive, and his hopeful smile turned into a dejected pout. "Is that a no then?" The pain and sorrow in his voice broke her heart.

Horrified at the thought of hurting the man she loved, she looked up at him. "No, no, no! I mean, it's definitely not a no! It's just… a bit… shocking." She lowered her eyes to the pumpkin again. _It's like he took this from my fluffiest fantasies_ , she thought as she gazed at the 'Sherlock' and 'Molly' between the anatomically correct heart. She never thought that Sherlock would be the type of man to carve something like this on a pumpkin. She could see a pre-teen or even teenage Sherlock doing this but not the late-thirties version of the man.

"It's true though," he answered her half-formed and unspoken question, prompting her to gaze up at him. "I do love you." He pursed his lips and looked down for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I know we've only been dating for eight months, two weeks, three days, and four hours, but it's true. In fact, I have loved you for at least four years before we went out for coffee." He swallowed hard. "Do you believe me, Molly?"

"Absolutely," she confirmed with a nod. "I love you too, Sherlock." And she did believe him; despite the actual words never coming out of his mouth, he showed his affections through his actions, his passion, and his tone.

To her relief, he gave her the smile that he reserved only for her.

She looked back down at the carving below the 'Sherlock Loves Molly' bit, and her heart thumped hard. Her hands flew to her mouth as she read the words 'Will You Marry Me?' over and over again, fighting the urge to burst into tears.

She _was_ thrilled to read those words. They had talked about marriage and children, even without prompting from her mother, his parents, and their friends. She had expected him to propose casually, like while watching crap telly at 2am, during a post-mortem, while working a crime scene, or during sex. She never expected him to carve those words on a pumpkin at his parents' backyard on Halloween night, especially with his parents, brother (even if he was home with his PA), Mrs Hudson, the Watsons, Greg Lestrade, and Sally Donovan waiting for her answer somewhere in the property.

 _But I haven't even told him that I'm a werewolf!_ She took a deep breath at the reminder. She had managed to hide it in their eight months of dating despite his natural curiosity and attempts to deduce (and seduce) it out of her. She always replied that she would tell him someday. _What if he's only proposing so I'd tell him my secret?_ She would not put it past him. _But what if he doesn't believe me when I tell him that I'm a werewolf and that werewolves are real?_ She recalled how he scoffed whenever John or Mary jokingly suggested that his pathologist might be a werewolf.

"I'm not proposing just to find out what you've forbidden me to deduce," he assured her. "Both John and Graham have said that it's fine to keep some mystery between couples. Unless, of course, you've been hiding a secret spouse or secret child. I deserve to know if there's such impediment to our marriage. Is there, Molly?"

"Of course not. Mycroft would have uncovered that by now."

"True," he replied with a chuckle. "But he'd only tell me about it if and when it's necessary."

"Touché." She took another deep breath and closed her eyes. She would rather have a broken heart now than have another broken engagement later. She could not bear it if Sherlock left her after he found out that she was a werewolf. She opened her eyes and cleared her throat. _It's now or never._

She rose from her seat and moved to the spot next to him. Despite her anxiety, she giggled as he grabbed his pumpkin and turned it round to face her. She reached for his hands, stilling his twitching fingers, and leant forward to kiss him. She inhaled sharply as she pulled back. "Sherlock, I need to tell you something."

"Are you a werewolf?"

While she was annoyed at his impatience, her eyes widened in surprise at his question. "I'd have preferred it if it came from me, but…" She sighed deeply. "Y-yes, I'm a werewolf."

"How were you turned? Who turned you? How long have you been a werewolf? Do you have a pack? Does Toby know you're a werewolf? Where do you transform? Do you have to be naked when you transform? Have you killed anyone in your wolf form? How painful is it? Will you be able to conceive? Oh, can you conceive in your wolf form? Will you let me observe while you transform? Will you let me film it? Would it be bestiality if we had sex while you're in your wolf form? Does it hurt when you transform back into your human form? Do you remember anything after transforming back?"

She exhaled a laugh at the rapid-fire delivery, the number, and the specificity of his questions. "Holy shit, Sherlock! That was… That was unexpected!"

"Sorry." He pulled his hands from her grasp and ruffled his hair, before he took a deep breath and reached for her hands. "I'm just extremely curious about your… condition."

"But h-how did you figure it out? And why didn't you tell me before that you've discovered my secret?" She was incredibly relieved, but she needed answers.

He sighed. "While I didn't believe it at first, the more I thought about it, the less ridiculous it seemed. It was the only explanation for all the facts, so I did my research and stole classified files from my brother. I observed your behaviour and patterns as well––I'll show you the spreadsheets later––but I need more data straight from you. Hence, the many, many questions. So––"

"But you're fine with it? You're not mad?"

Chuckling, he leant forward to kiss her and squeezed her hands. "Mad? Of course not. _I'd_ have preferred it if you'd told me sooner. But I'm clever enough to figure it out _and_ understand why you wouldn't tell me. Well, with Mary and John's help, of course. I'm _obviously_ fascinated and eager to know everything about your life as a werewolf."

She pulled her hands from his and grabbed his face before snogging him breathless. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?" she whispered when she pulled back.

"Nearly every day, Molly," he replied with a smirk. "But, before you answer all those questions, I need you to answer the most important one." Freeing a hand, he removed a small velvet box from his trouser pocket and opened it to reveal the glittering diamond ring inside. "Margaret Elizabeth Anne Hooper, will you marry me?" he asked as he looked into her eyes.

Sure that her eyes matched the glint of the diamond in front of her, she grinned at him. "Yes, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, I would love to marry you." As she kissed him, she felt him slipping the ring onto her finger.

They broke into happy smiles when they pulled apart. They shook their heads and rolled their eyes at the same time when they heard loud cheering from inside his parents' house and belatedly from Greg inside the shed.

She slung her arms round his neck and snogged him some more. "I need to phone my mum, and I bet your parents and our friends are itching to celebrate our engagement. Later, you and I will _celebrate_ in your bedroom. And _then_ I'll answer all your questions. How's that?"

"That sounds great. We have the rest of our lives to gather data together anyway."

She giggled. "You make it sound so sexy and romantic. Perhaps you should stop turning me on, before I drag you inside the shed and shag you silly."

"Really? Even with Donovan and Lestrade inside?"

She shook her head. "I heard them leave the shed after his delayed shout. They're in the house now."

He knitted his eyebrows together. "How––" Then his eyes widened as he worked it out. "Oh! Enhanced hearing! Neat!"

Giggling, Molly stood and offered him her hand. "Come on. They're all waiting for us."

Sherlock chuckled as he took her hand and rose from his seat. He wrapped his arm round her waist and handed her the pumpkin that she carved (and mostly forgotten). He scooped his pumpkin into the crook of his free arm before they moved towards the house.

* * *

 _I actually did a quick poll on Twitter to help me decide how Sherlock would react to Molly's 'revelation'. So I owe the climax of this fic to the four people that voted for the 'Ask so many questions' option. Thanks, y'all!_

 _Do y'all think Sherlock would want to be turned? Hmmmmmmmm..._

 _So what do you think? Hate it? Like it? Love it?_


End file.
